Well Wishes
by IfTheWorldHadAName
Summary: Midoriya Inko has always tried to be there for her son, throughout the hard times and the happy ones. A collection of oneshots about Inko's perspective throughout the series.
1. Idolized

It was her fault, it had to be. It'd been a week since the diagnosis of quirklessness, and Izuku hadn't gone back to school yet. She was letting him stay home while he processed it. She didn't know if it was for the best, but she didn't know what else to do.

It was all falling apart. She'd scoured the internet for information on quirklessness and only got new articles and studies with headlines like 'Here's How This Quirkless Person Was Able to Make a Difference' and 'Is Quirklessness in the modern day a form of de-evolution?". Internet forums revealed nothing about how she was suppose to help her child apart from warnings about discrimination and bullying.

She still didn't see how it was possible for Izuku to be quirkless. She and her husband were both fourth generation, so how in God's name did Izuku have an extra toe joint? Maybe Hisashi had lied about his generation status. It wouldn't be the worse he's done. But he was gone, he wasn't coming back, and she couldn't worry about her lying husband anymore.

She was going to have to get a job soon. The groceries were running low and she only had enough money saved to last them for about a month. She'd look at the job offers Mitsuki had sent her tomorrow.

She pushed herself off the couch, and to her surprise, saw Izuku standing just behind the doorframe watching her.

She hoped that he wouldn't notice the faded tear tracks on her face as she began walking over towards him. "Izuku, it's already 9, you should be in bed." His eyes turn downward, and to her alarm it looked like he had been crying.

She walked over and gently lifted him into her arms. "Oh sweetie, what's wrong?" She said as she began to carry him back to his room.

He buried his face in her shoulder. "I-I want to watch the video again."

Oh. It was about that. Inko sighed. She knew it was a bad idea. Her son had been obsessed with heroes before, but now that he's...that he's quirkless, should she still encourage this? That's what the doctor had said at least.

The thoughts stopped as she looked back down at him. She couldn't say no, she couldn't. Not after everything that had happened.

She doubled back down the hallway, heading back to Hisashi's study. "Yes Izu, I'll go get it set up."

Izuku's eyes lit up, but it wasn't the same as it had been only a week before.

They sat there for half an hour watching the video. All Might's face and reassurance lighting up the screen each time she clicked play. The clock on the wall steadily ticked it's way past 9:30.

"It's getting late Izuku, you need to go to bed." Inko said as she leaned next to the chair to start shutting down the computer.

She didn't here a response from Izuku, and started to turn the chair around to face her. One look at Izuku was all she needed to know that something was wrong. Izuku was struggling to say something, but tears kept building up in his eyes. He avoided her stare, instead focusing on a spot on the wall.

"Mom," he paused, as if he didn't know he should say what came next, "c-can I be a hero?"

Inko froze. This...this is what she had been afraid of. Visions of the video played before her eyes. Izuku had always focused on All Might, but all she'd been able to see was the people battered on the sides, the screams still echoing from the wreckage. Out of everything Izuku could want to be when he grew older, heroism was the most dangerous. Something only the most powerful could do. Something she thought only somebody with a quirk could do.

She knew deep down she shouldn't have said what she did, but she couldn't stop herself. She can't let her son get hurt.

She grabbed him in a hug and started sobbing "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

She felt him collapse in her arms.

"I'm so, so sorry."


	2. Impaired

It shocked her the first time someone had given her their condolences. The news that her son was quirkless had quickly spread throughout her apartment complex, and her neighbors now saw it necessary to give her sad, knowing looks when they walked by.

It wasn't just with her, the neighborhood kids had started avoiding Izuku too.

She first noticed it when she took Izuku to the park. She was digging through her purse when she overheard the man next door tell his child to "be careful with that kid, no roughhousing, quirkless people are more fragile" while gesturing towards her son. It had both enraged her and saddened her, knowing that her child was no different then he had been three months ago, yet people had begun to treat him with bubble wrap.

Which brought her to the eventual parent-teacher conference she was at right now.

Ms. Himari quickly collected the papers scattered over her desk and slid them into the drawer. Her heavily-lipsticked mouth pursed as she looked to be gathering her thoughts.

Inko glanced outside where Izuku was currently playing with some of the other kids on the playground. "What did you need me here for?" she said as respectfully as she could.

Ms. Himari sighed and finally looked Inko in the eyes. "We've had some concerns about how Izuku's been doing in school. He's become more withdrawn lately, and doesn't want to actively participate in class that much."

Inko turned away from here heavy gaze. "Yes, he's become much more withdrawn in the past months. I can't help but think it's because of how some of the neighbors have been treating him. They've...heard about his quirklessness."

"Ah yes, that would be a potential cause. We want you to know Ms. Midoriya that we do everything we can to make sure that our school is a safe learning environment for every child. We pride ourselves on a no-tolerance bullying policy. I just wanted to check in with you about my concerns."

The teacher smiled sweetly, her cheeks pulled taut in a way that made Inko think she had perfected it from years of putting up with 4 to 5 year olds. Ms. Himari's words did little to settle the dread in her stomach. She was right that the school did take an effort to reduce bullying. Being a kindergarten teacher was often considered one of the most tough, as well as most dangerous jobs. Due to this being the age when kids developed quirks, many children had no control and tantrums could end very well end in property destruction and injury. This is also the age where the full force of what many overzealous college students in social sciences dubbed the "quirk hierarchy". In other words, the students with impressive, powerful quirks would be idolized, and the ones with average quirks ignored. All that was left was the students with villainous quirks, and the quirkless students. Not that there were very many in the last category.

One of Inko's close friends from college had a son who fell in the villainous category. With the ability to rid someone of their senses for up to two days when angry, her friend's son had soon found himself completely alone at school. The students too afraid to make him angry, but too afraid to befriend him either.

Inko knew it wouldn't be the same for Izuku though. While kids with villainous quirks may be left alone due to fear, the quirkless were seen as weak, easy targets. She just wanted her son to be safe, but she was already starting to see the effects of society wearing him down only a month in, and she knew it would only be harder going on.

She reached down to gather her belongings. "Thank you for your input Ms. Himari." The woman in the question gave her another faux smile. "I will talk to Izuku about engaging in class more."

With that, Inko took her leave out the door, and headed towards the playground. After calling Izuku's name, and getting them in the car, she started heading into town.

"Mom, this isn't the way back home," Izuku called from the backseat. Inko glanced into the driver's mirror, and saw Izuku looking at her. "Yes, I know sweetie. I'd just thought it'd be nice if we went to that restaurant you like? The one downtown?"

At her words, Izuku's face lit up and he began happily jumping up and down in his carseat.

Inko smiled. It may not be much, but she'd at least try to let him be as happy as possible while she still could.


End file.
